Ignited
by CA-Walker
Summary: A collection of S5 post-episode one-shots, focusing on the lives of Arthur, Joan and Mackenzie Campbell.
1. 5x01 - Haunted

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! Thanks for clicking on this fic which is my collection of post episode one-shots for Season 5! Of course, as the season progresses, some inaccuracies will no doubt pop up as I'm literally writing the day after the episode has aired but other than that I hope you enjoy it and all your follows, favourites and reviews are absolutely adored! As usual I don't own the show etc etc.**

**The chapter titles are based on Kelly Clarkson songs.**

**#**

**Haunted**

The voice that had spoken to him briefly over the phone had been strained, many emotions pulling at it and distorting what had been a clear attempt at trying to compartmentalise what would had no doubt been a tough few days back at work, in a position she did not particularly want, yet had found herself in after returning from maternity leave. In part, he blamed himself for bringing ruin to the Campbell name and legacy within the Central Intelligence Agency. Yet, as he had told her, he stood behind every that he had did and he believed her when she said that she understood. Still...it didn't help her in the slightest; agency politics at their finest.

She phoned him to tell him, and Mackenzie, that she would be working late because, as things, as they always seemed to do, came up. Arthur had sensed that wasn't the only reason she had called - that had been out of courtesy. Another reason, to apologise to Mac for not being able to read his bedtime story to him at night, had been the mother in her who genuinely loved reading to her boy and the feeling was evidently mutual, the way his face would light up when she did. But the other reason? That had been the tough day at work talking; he could tell that had been the reason why she had phoned to see if Mac was OK. Arthur had heard the change in her voice, a definite smile, as she put her on loudspeaker to talk to their son who, recognising her voice, happily babbled back.

Hearing keys scratch in the lock, he closed his book shut, not even bothering to finish the sentence he had been on - he hadn't been paying that much attention to it anyway, his eyes seeing the words but not really taking them in and processing them. He stood to his feet, placed his glasses on top of the hardback on the coffee table and wandered over to meet her just as she entered the living room. "Welcome home," he smiled, his arms pulling her into a hug; he felt her collapse against his chest - he left her to decide when she had had enough of his embrace and it was a good few moments before she came to that decision.

"Mac asleep?"

Arthur nodded. "Put him to bed a half hour ago."

"You two had a nice day?"

"Lovely day...just wished you would've have been back earlier. Think he missed mommy's turn to read tonight."

"Yeah," she sighed, walking over to rest her handbag on the arm of the sofa. "I did too. Sorry, I would have been back a little earlier but I needed to clear my mind. Long, long day."

_If he had a nickel for how many of those days he had had in his career..._"Well," he said softly, slipping his hands around her waist. "It's over now; put whatever it is to the back of your mind. At least till tomorrow...what's that you've got?"

A slight smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she held the small stuffed toy that she had just taken out of her bag. "I think it's meant to be a frog. I, uh, stopped at Wal-Mart. Well, wandered into Wal-Mart...I saw this and thought Mac would like it."

"I think Mac will love it," he said, trying to turn the trace of a smile into a full one. "Why don't you go put it in the nursery, eh? I'll go and get you something to drink?"

She nodded. "Sure..."

"What do you want? There's a nice bottle of white-."

"No," she cut him off with that firm word and a shake of her head, also breaking from his hold. "I need something stronger, please."

"Of course sweetheart," he nodded, reluctantly letting her hand slip from his as she left the living room, the floorboards gently creaking as she went upstairs. Finding something stronger in the form of a bottle of Scotch, he both brought that and two glasses through from the kitchen before finding himself drawn to going up and checking on her. Joan may be shy about expressing them but sometimes those emotions, the mixed bag of them that had strained her voice during that call, had to be be addressed.

The frog, which resembled more of a lizard than it did a frog, was sitting on the rocking chair. Joan was by Mac's crib, gently stroking the small amount of hair that he had as he slept. She sensed Arthur's presence. "A lot of people died today," she said in a whisper. "And for once I didn't envy Calder."

Arthur said nothing, coming over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I saw the list of names...I read about them. They had husbands and wives...they were people's children...some even had children. There was," her voice caught but she took a deep breath and carried on. "There was one guy that had a son...he was six months old." _Barely older than Mac. _"And all, all that I could think about was Mac."

Again, he didn't say a word; just gently kneaded that shoulder with his fingers.

"And Teo. I thought about Teo."

_Teo. _Arthur still thought about him too; every single day. "You've had a rough day honey...please don't dwell on it. I've been there before and it is not healthy."

"But it's all that I can do, Arthur. It could have been avoided."

"How?"

"I-," she stuttered, shook her head and seemed to give up.

"Exactly." This level of openness was rare for his wife so instead of telling her to drop it in so many words, he simply changed the subject, not closing the door on the earlier topic because if she wanted to let it all out, even though it broke his heart just that little but, he wasn't going to stand in her way. If it was cathartic then he was all for it; he just wanted her to be okay because that was all that mattered. "I didn't get to read to him tonight; peek-a-boo tired him out so it'll technically be your turn tomorrow."

"Wednesdays are your days," she replied, referring to the rota they had made and had adapted the other day to accommodate her new working hours. Arthur had Monday, Wednesday and Friday whereas she had Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday to read the bedtime story - on the Sunday they shared the task. It worked and he enjoyed it, loving the routine they were establishing - a routine he was hoping their forays back into the working environment wouldn't disrupt. "You're not gonna miss it."

"But you were gonna miss today..."

"I know," she sighed. "But that couldn't be helped."

"If you're sure." Although he was absolutely certain that she was; just like she hated missing her turn to read, she also hated missing watching him read to their son. It was the same with him and, again, he hoped the career that awaited him in the private sector wouldn't rob him of precious moments like that.

"Positive," she said, her hand stopping at the top of the little boy's head, her finger wrapping around a small strand of hair."I wish he weren't sleeping..."

"Believe me, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, you'll be wishing the very opposite."

"True." She smiled briefly. "This world's messed up, Arthur."

He sadly nodded; over two decades working in the world of espionage left had left him, and his wife whose time within the agency wasn't quite that long as his, under no illusions. "It is indeed. But there's not a damn thing we can do about it. We just have to protect him the best we can...but soon enough he'll be his own man."

"They grow up fast," she mumbled.

"Sure do," he agreed, the past four months ranking as the quickest of his life. Quickest and most blissful. It seemed like just yesterday they brought their boy home; seemed like just yesterday they had met him. "He'll be taller than me soon."

Joan smirked. "That's not that difficult."

"Charming," he grinned, leaning to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "C'mon...there's a drink waiting for you downstairs. It sounds like you need it." And had wanted it not less than five minutes ago. Yet now she was conflicted and he knew why. "He knows you're here honey."

She nodded. "I hope so."

"No. He does."

"You sure?"

"Certain." There was a look of contentment on the boy's face that hadn't been as noticeable earlier. He knows that his mother's here...knows that she loves him...knows that he's safe because his mother is not only a sweetheart but an extremely dangerous woman if she needs to be." That remarked earned him a chuckle. "And that's all that matters. C'mon sweetheart...you need that drink."

"Yeah," she nodded, turning to Arthur to rest a hand on his cheek. "Yeah."

Tenderly taking the hand that lay on his cheek, he entwined his fingers with hers and led her downstairs, back to the living room and, sitting down first on the sofa, he pulled her onto his lap and had to stretch over her to pour the Scotch into the glasses which he placed into her hand. He downed his in one - she swirled the liquid and was about to do the same when the baby monitor crackled. "Told you," Arthur said. "He knew that you were there; misses you already."

She smiled. "Maybe I'll get to read to him after all, huh?"

Arthur grinned, following her as she got up to go. "And maybe I'll get to watch you do so."


	2. 5x02 - How I Feel

**How I Feel**

The days were not getting any easier; they weren't getting any quicker either. Knowing that their little boy was spending the first, of many days, with a babysitter whilst his parents worked long hours was tough - tougher than she could ever imagined. It had been difficult enough returning to work the other day from maternity leave even though she knew that little Mackenzie was safe and having fun with his daddy who was, turning out to be an exceptional father just as she thought that he would be. If Mac was set off by a noise or a shadow or even the mobile that hung over his crib that he had a love hate relationship with, one minute fascinated by the variety of shapes and colours, the next scared half to death by them, it was reassuring to know that Arthur was there. However now he was back at work and, even though her son was with a babysitter who came across glowingly in both their sit down interview with her and through feedback from past clients, Joan absolutely hated this. Hated the niggling little fear that ate away at her as she sat at her desk that the lovely Annabelle wouldn't be able to soothe Mac's cries. Hated the thought that Mac might miss his mommy and daddy and wouldn't settle until they returned. Hated the fact that she wasn't with him every second of the day anymore.

Never before had she been so grateful to return home, cuddle her baby boy and slip back into the blissful routine of being a mommy. She had quickly changed into something a little less formal before she started on the dinner she had promised her husband and then turned her attention back to the other special and important guy in her life. She sat with Mac on her lap as she read to him, only having to pause twice to go and check on the dinner, bouncing her son on her hip as she did so. Time flew by as it always did when she was with Mac - he'd be a man before she even knew it at this rate - and she'd barely even noticed how her husband still wasn't back by the time dinner was ready.

More than used to that being the case, she sat Mac down in his high chair, grabbed a plate for herself and kept the stove on for when Arthur did get back - by that time, Mac was down for the evening and she'd washed her own plate that she'd finished with some thirty minutes ago. He had already ate, dinner with a new colleague called Caitlyn so the dinner that she had cooked had effectively gone to waste but she didn't mind. She understood that her husband had networking to do at his new company; she was just happy to have him home albeit a little later than they had planned - and the huge and equally as adorable teddy bear that he had with him, that would look lovely in the nursery was just an added bonus.

They'd do that later to avoid the possibility of waking Mackenzie. For the time being, Arthur plopped the guy on the armchair facing the couch that he sat down, placing his glass of rose on the coffee table. "You look exhausted...sit.," he smiled, gesturing for her to sit with him, as if she needed to be prompted.

Her glass went down next to his so that she could slip off her pumps, sitting crossed legged beside him. "I feel exhausted too."

An arm slipped around her shoulder. "Work?"

"Yep. But we really don't want to get into that. Enough about me, how was your day? Your first day nonetheless."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, I spent the good part of my first day trying to find my office so getting lost is always a good start. It's no Langley, I'll give you that."

Joan reached for her glass of wine, taking a sip before she ask. "And is that a good thing?"

"Well, I don't get the chance to see my beautiful wife each day, or even have the opportunity to bump into her, so it is not a good thing in that respect, no," Arthur smiled again, this one even brighter than the last. "But other than that? It'll do for now."

_For now. _They both knew what he meant because _for now _was for how long that had both returned to work. Financially, they were comfortable and set for life. The only reason they worked was for their son's future. If Mac ever wanted a football jersey, a bike or a college education when the time came, they wanted to make sure that he could have exactly that. Spoiling the kid who had changed their lives for the better as he grew up would be worth all the sacrifices that they made now. It might not feel like it now - in fact it felt anything but - but it was the best decision that they could make as parents. "Just as long as you're happy. That's all that matters."

"I'm married to you. How could I be happier?" They'd been together for nearly ten years but he had lost none of that charm that had first stolen her heart. "C'mhere," he grinned, gently reaching for one of her feet, his fingers reliving stress that she didn't even know was there. "That better?"

She smiled. "Yes. Thank you." He did the same with her other foot, his magic fingers both bringing out all the aches and pains and eliminating them within seconds. It brought her back to a couple of months ago, when every single step whilst heavily pregnant was near agony and the other main reason that she couldn't wait to meet their child. Just a few months ago yet things couldn't have been more different - couldn't be any better. "Thank you," she said just a few moments later as his impromptu foot rubs came to an end.

"Why are you thanking me?" Reaching out, he cupped her cheeks and placed his lips on top of hers and kept them there for as long as they could kiss before needing to breathe. "Don't thank me. And believe me when I say that I've been looking forward to spending time with my wife since the second I left her this morning."

She pressed her forehead against his, biting down on her lip. "You've been on my mind too."

His smile faded as he resigned himself to how it would be from now on."We'll get used to it."

"We hope," she sighed. "I never thought it would be this hard."

"Yeah...but who knows? It seems like the agency and McQuiad have similar interests at the moment...we might be working together sometime down the line."

_If only it was that simplistic...if only things worked that way. But still..._ "I wasn't meaning that though don't get me wrong, it's weird not seeing you around the place." Even last year, she was still working in conjunction with her husband after his resignation. Or working for him to clear his name. This, was truly the first time since she had met him and fallen in love with him, that she hadn't been working alongside him in some capacity. "I'm not gonna lie, it wasn't easy having you as a boss and I do regret that I allowed it to cause some tension between us-."

"Hey," he rested a hand on her leg. "I'm just as guilty for that happening as you are. And also as remorseful."

Joan's smile told him that it was okay and that she was glad that they were on common ground when it came to the conflict that had threatened their relationship way too many times. "But I also kinda miss it. Actually I do miss it...a lot. I might not have thought it at the time but you always had the right intentions as DCS. You actually knew what you were doing."

"Calder not up to the job?"

"Lord, do not even get me started on Calder Michaels. But no...I don't want to get into that. Back to what I was saying..."

"About it being hard?" The cheeky grin on Arthur's face was infectious and she found herself sinking down to his level and his dirty mindedness.

"A different kind of hard, Arthur," she chuckled.

"Right," he laughed.

"I wasn't just meaning you...I was meaning Mac as well."

Arthur nodded. "Yep...it's not easy is it? I thought that by having a picture of the two most important things in the world to me, on my desk would make things a little easier but really? It makes things worse."

"That's why I don't." Firstly she had thought her absence of a family picture on her desk was due to the difficulties of picking just one photograph -which was a tough task due to the magnitude of photographs that had been taken, almost every day of their new family's life being documented - but really? It was the fear that having a picture on her desk would make the day drag even longer than it already did. "I love you and I love our little boy but you guys are ruining my life."

"In a good way?"

"In the best possible way ever." Beaming, she reached for her glass only to be halted by a yawn that nearly made her lose her balance.

Arthur's arm that was quick to shoot out and wrap around her waist stopped her from toppling of the couch, pulling her to him instead. "Easy, sleepy head," he whispered. She let her head lie on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and his natural warmth comforting. "Maybe you need to get some sleep."

"It's only eight thirty," she murmured. "Its too early for bed."

"Too early for bed with me?" Even though her eyelids had drooped shut, she could picture the cheeky look on his face, the grin and the cute little crinkles on his forehead as he arched a brow. She liked his thinking. Especially as Mac was beginning to fall into a steadier sleeping pattern these days. _Yet..._

"Maybe later...until then we could pop on a movie-."

He shook his head. "Too much effort. That involves moving."

"Your other suggestion involved moving."

"Yeah but I'm up for _that_." She heard it in his voice again. "But I'm always up for just cuddling...after all I've missed my wife."

"And I've missed my husband," she said, her grip around his stomach tightening. "And I love my husband," she uttered those words for the third time that day. The first time had been when she'd woken up that morning and the second had been on the phone. Yet it didn't matter how many times she said it or heard him say it back to her - as just then he said it for the third time as well - because it was the truth and she wanted him to know.

Arthur Campbell was the man she loved, the father of her child and the man that gave the best foot rubs in the world. And that was exactly why she had missed, and would miss, him like crazy.


	3. 5x03 - Honestly

**Honestly**

Motherhood had been, without a doubt, the biggest challenge that she had ever faced in her life. As with nearly every other challenge, she loved it - in fact, loved barely even began to cover how incredible being a mother was. Yet it was a funny one. She'd never, ever wish that things were any different, yet sometimes, just sometimes, she didn't enjoy it. Right now was one of those times as she felt completely and utterly helpless to soothe the crying child in her arms and had been for the past half hour. The past half hour which had really felt like hours.

"C'mon gorgeous," she whispered, kissing the top of the boy's head. "Please stop crying...please sweetie. Mommy really needs you to stop crying."

As much as she didn't want her little boy to grow up that quickly, a part of her wished that Mac was at that stage in which he could truly understand the words that she was saying and cease the crying that was really getting to her because she just couldn't help him. Occasionally he had settled in her arms, his tiny fists grabbing a loose strand of her hair and his temporary fixation with it made him babble happily. She'd then smile herself, cuddle her boy and try to put him down again for the night but that's when he started again.

The gentle click of the front door closing made her mouth a silent _thank you_ as she stood, carrying her still crying child to greet Arthur who had finally returned home. Again, he was home later than he said he would be and, already, Joan was beginning to tire of this pattern. All she wanted when she got home herself was to spend time with her favourite two guys. As much as she loved her son and would happily spend every single second that she had left on this earth with him, it just wasn't the same when those seconds weren't with Arthur too.

Maybe neither of them should have returned to work after all...

"Honey?" Arthur called, his voice bouncing off the walls. He nearly collided into them as he searched them out. "Hey...hey, little guy. What's wrong?" He gently shook one of Mackenzie's little fists before he looked up at her. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Joan sighed. "I'd just put him down and about ten minutes later, he started crying. Bawling even. I've fed him, changed him, even tried to get him back to sleep down here but...nothing," she sighed again. "Nothing seems to be working, I don't know what's wrong, I just-."

"Hey," Arthur hushed, although this time it was her, rather than Mac. He placed a hand on her forearm. "It's alright. You said he was sleeping, he probably just had a bad dream. Or he woke up and the mobile started him again. That'll be what happened."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah, I guess..." Strangely that thought had never crossed her mind. Everything other reason for Mac's cries had, however. "Yeah," she muttered again, glancing down at the child in her arms who had somewhat quietened since his father returned. She loved the way that even teary eyed, Mac's little baby blues never failed to light up around Arthur; Arthur's did exactly the same too. "Hey...you wanna see daddy? Yeah?"

Arthur grinned as he happily accepted his son, the exchange sealed with a kiss on her lips. "I'm so sorry I'm late honey."

"Work?" She asked although she had tasted whiskey on his lips.

He nodded. "Kinda yeah...I'll tell you about it later. Well, as much as I can due to clearance and all that nonsense. Just not in front of this little guy." Bouncing Mac, he nodded over to the sofa. "Tell you what...you gather Gary the Giraffe and all his pals and bring them over."

"What?" She stared at him blankly, even though she perfectly understood the request.

"Gary the Giraffe, Peter the Penguin, Leo the Lion...get them and bring them over to the couch. I've got a little idea."

"OK?" She shrugged yet set upon the mission which, even after nearly two decades within the ever unpredictable CIA, had to be her strangest to date. The stuffed toys were scattered all over the house, thanks to Arthur not Mackenzie who couldn't yet reach the the dining table or the kitchen counter, or even their own bed where she found Peter the Penguin - with whom she had awoken to see Arthur cuddling with this morning, after he'd gotten up during the night to change Mac. Finally completing the mission set by her husband, she came back into the living room waving a seal. "You forgot Shaun."

Arthur sighed. "How could I forget Shaun?"

"I don't know but you did," Joan chuckled, sitting down beside the two of them, letting the armful of stuffed toys fall into her lap. "OK, now what?"

"Lights."

"Lights?" Again, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What about them?"

"Dim them," Arthur smiled.

"But I just sat down."

Arthur nodded. "I know you did sweetie. But Mac's just gotten comfortable on my lap."

It was hard not to smile and equally as hard not to get up, cross the room to twist the dimmer knob. "Damn you Mackenzie Campbell...damn you for being so darned cute," she muttered, completing the trip and sitting back down, only to find that said cute child being passed to her. "I thought you said he was comfortable?"

"Yeah but if I said that, you'd have made me go and dim the lights." Mac's cuteness was something he inherited from his daddy - yet if she was certain that if she were to ask Arthur about where he had inherited that, the charmer would say her. "Plus, mommy doesn't know the script, does she?"

"Script?" Lord, she must sound like a parrot repeating everything that Arthur was saying.

Arthur grinned, elaborated no more, and began. It didn't take Joan too long to figure out what his "idea" was; it also didn't take long for Mac to stop crying and start laughing and staring in complete amazement, enthralled by the little show that only Arthur knew the script to, providing the voices to the stuffed bears that were the stars of the impromptu puppet show. Her eyes were also wide in wonder and she too laughed along as she held their little boy. A natural, Arthur kept the show going until Mac finally began to drift off in her arms, never once pausing to think about what next would happen to the toys on their adventure.

"Honey," she whispered. "It worked."

Arthur looked up and smiled. "Let's put him down before he wakes up again, yeah?"

They did exactly that, gently placing Mac down in his crib and kissing him goodnight before checking the monitor was on and tiptoeing out of the nursery, leaving the door ajar. They didn't bother to go back downstairs; instead they collapsed on top of their bed.

"That was wonderful, honey," Joan smiled as she propped herself up with an elbow.

Arthur twisted round to face her. "Yeah? Could you tell that I was making it all up on the spot?"

"No, I honestly could not. Sure, I thought you were beginning to run out of ideas when Gary took the gang to Wal-Mart but you turned it all around with the kidnapping plot."

He laughed. "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

"Me?" She arched a brow. "Mac liked it more than I did."

"Yeah but to Mac I was just making a bunch of sounds and waving his toys around. You," he tapped the tip of her nose. "Understood every single word and laughed. I think you've gone soft."

_He thought? These days it was painfully obvious thanks to that kid. _She bit down on her lip. "Think what you will, Mr I-Made-Up-That-Story-All-By-Myself-Yet-I-Call-My-Wife-Soft."

"Yeah, tell me about it." His eyes flickered from her down to the duvet. His smile disappeared. "I'm sorry that I wasn't home earlier."

She shook her head. "Honey, its fine. I understand."

"No. No you do not, baby. We've had our difficulties in the past and I don't want that any more. I want to be, and I will be - as much as this line of work permits - perfectly honest with you."

A few years ago, she would have been worried if her husband came out with a statement like that. Yet these days, she wasn't that insecure as he didn't give her any reasons to be. Instead, he had given her a child and a life that she wouldn't trade for the world. Arthur Campbell loved her, more than anything in the world. He would not cheat on her - he would never cheat on her. "Alright..."

"I stayed behind to talk to Caitlyn."

_Caitlyn. _She was getting real tired of that girl. Arthur she trusted. Caitlyn? She did not trust even in the slightest.

"And honey, I regret it. Deeply. Nothing happened and nothing will happen."

"Babe," she reached for his hand. "I know that."

"I know," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's just that, in the past-."

She squeezed his hand. "There you said it."

"Said what?"

"That it's the past. I was...I was wrong to ever doubt you back then. I was...insecure. I should have trusted you as much back then as I do now."

Arthur smiled; he knew how hard it was for her to admit things like that. "Thank you."

"No," she leaned forward to kiss him. "Thank you. For everything."


	4. 5x04 - Thankful

**Thankful**

**A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews! Just like this season, I am absolutely enjoying writing this fic. This one-shot is, of course, for 5x04 which I must say was a terrific episode and certainly my favorite of the season...so far! Anyway, thank y'all and I hope you enjoy this latest ****instalment****.**

#

The perfect gentlemen. Not once had he mentioned the whole funding issue that their new jobs had created between them since they had concluded their conversation on the matter, before they had hailed a cab and returned home. Instead he had removed his jacket and used it as a makeshift umbrella for her as they walked over to the cab rank, held open the door to the vehicle once they had finally got one and had let her use his shoulder to rest her head on for the entire half hour that it took to return back to their house.

_Man, she had forgotten how boring these events were. _Tonight was no exception, especially having to run an op on the side, deal with Senator Pierson and dish out relationship advice to Calder, who although was technically her superior, was showing incredibly little intelligence for a man who was the Director of Clandestine Services. Of course, she would love to return to her former position - in her mind, she more than deserved the chance, and the pay rise would be welcome with a newborn to spoil rotten - but she didn't want want the guy to fail. He too deserved a chance, after all. _Although she'd admit that the extra income that the job allowed would be better spent on toys to bring a smile to a little child's face than on a prostitute to bring a smile to the face of a man who no doubt, would have little difficulty in finding a nice girl who he didn't have to pay by the hour._

"Is it my imagination or is it...quiet?" It had hit her almost the second she had entered their, now, family home. Even when Mackenzie was down for a nap or for the night, it never felt truly quiet. Until Mac fell into a proper sleeping pattern, or even half a proper sleeping pattern - something that she hoped would happen soon - there was always that unpredictability about the silence and they could never fully appreciate it.

"It is indeed." Arthur agreed, placing the clutch, that he had volunteeringly been carrying since they met up to leave, down on the back of the sofa.

"The hell were things like a few months ago?" Life before the greatest thing to ever happen to her, and them, seemed a long time ago. Which was strange as little Mackenzie seemed to be growing up so fast and wasn't quite so little anymore. Though he'd always be her little boy.

"You say a few months ago but it may have it escaped your notice but you were pregnant."

"Really? I can't say that I noticed that...I mean it's not like was at all noticeable or anything."

"Hey, the knife drawer's away in the kitchen, Miss Sharp," Arthur laughed.

Joan smiled. "I try my best. Wait. What about me being pregnant? What's that got to do with things?"

"C'mon, honey...the last few weeks?"

"What about the last few weeks?" _Was she missing something here?_ The only thing she could remember about those last few weeks was the crippling fear that Arthur could be sent all because of that cancer that was Henry Wilcox and that their baby boy would lose his father as a result. Oh, and the small matter of nearly being shot dead in her own home. _She knew those last few weeks all too well._

"I...you know what?" He laughed again, shaking his head. "It was probably just my overactive imagination. Forget it."

"No, c'mon honey. Out with it." Arthur had something to say and Joan hated an unfinished sentiment.

"Actually it _was _my overactive imag-."

Well, not all unfinished sentiments; she was more than happy to cut her husband off this one time to find out what he was originally about to say. "Arthur," she said, firmly.

An icy glare, much like the one that she had shot Senator Pierson earlier that evening - although this glare stemmed from annoyance rather than both annoyance and hatred - seemed to do the trick. "The last few weeks you, uh...you kinda moaned...like a lot."

"Well, excuse me for carrying a human being for eight months."

"No, no, no. I'm not saying that in a bad way. It was cute, I mean...but I couldn't help myself." He grinned. "When you said about things being quiet a few months ago...it's actually been quite some time since it was this quiet. And it's been even longer since I'll have had a night's sleep that doesn't involve being woken up by someone crying because they're hungry, or because they need the toilet, or because they're just crying for the sake of it."

"You're still referring to me there, aren't you?" _God, Joan. Fight it...fight it. Don't you dare show him that you find his remark funny. _A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. _Damn it._

"Yeah."

"Again, excuse me for carrying a human being for eight months. _Our _human being, nonetheless."

"Baby, I do forgive you. I'm grateful for you carrying our human being for eight months. I mean I wouldn't have been able to do it. I'd no doubt moan for the entire eight months, nevermind the last few weeks."

"Very true."

"No, no. I'm also grateful that this kinda feels weird to be home, all by ourselves. Because it means that we have something so perfect that we miss like crazy."

She nodded. "I wouldn't trade him for the world either. But saying that…"

"Honey, don't you dare think you're gonna sell our little guy on the baby market for agency funds." He grimaced; he didn't mean it, but it slipped from his lips.

She pushed a finger against his lips. "No shop talk - especially these days when it reminds me that we're on different sides. Nuh-uh, none at all. And seriously Arthur? If I was to sell Mac - which if I was, which I'd never, ever, nobody would ever come close to my valuation of that special little guy, since he's invaluable -, believe me, it would not be for the agency. The agency may have given me you in the first place but the agency has also, more or less, taken you away from me, and also turned you against me, by driving you to work for McQuaid. No. Family comes first."

"It does for me too." He smiled, resting his hands on her hips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes. I'll admit I did have a glass of champagne tonight and that was probably why I even entertained the notion of selling my little man."

Arthur chuckled. "Well, I must admit I'm a little glad that that stemmed from slight intoxication rather than sobriety. But no. That was not what I was about to ask you."

"OK, then shoot."

"If you hate the agency so much, then why the hell did you stay?"

"For the same reason that you brownnosed that bitch Pierson tonight. For Mac." Otherwise know as the same reason she found herself doing almost everything for these days. "And yeah. You could go as far to say that I hate the agency - who likes bureaucratic assholes with personal agendas that are waiting to see you fail? Exactly, no one does and I'm pretty sure those assholes hate the other assholes too. I may hate the agency but the actual job portion of it? Protecting my country, a country that our child's got to grow up in? I still love it. And the day that I don't is the day that I'll hand in my resignation and become a full-time soccer mom."

Arthur smiled. "Sorry hon, but our kid's not gonna play soccer. Baseball? Most certainly. Football? Maybe. But soccer? Not a chance in hell. Who plays soccer?"

"My grandpa did with me when I was a little girl. I could teach Mac a thing or two. And you too if, you're not scared of getting a little dirty."

"What? Like you?" He arched a brow suggestively.

"Exactly like me," she said, playing him at his own game and biting down on her lip. "So house to ourselves for the first time in quite some time. What do you wanna do?"

"Sleep? Or not sleep?" That brow was raised yet again and his grin was huge.

"It's only ten o'clock."

"When's that ever bothered you before?"

She smiled. "I'm not against the idea but still. We do have the house to ourselves for the first time in a while. Be a shame not to make the most of it."

His brow knitted in cute concentration as he pondered, taking a few moments to do so before his eyes light up, just as the metaphorical light bulb did too. "You know...we never got to have that dance."

"We didn't." _Until then _was still yet to occur and Joan had had to watch, jealous as hell as Arthur danced with the giant pain in her ass for the past year or so that was Senator Clare Pierson. Sure, he was brown nosing her and, again, sure he looked like he was in hell rather than in a fancy gala hall as he danced with her. Yet it was simply the principle of it. It didn't matter if it was her best friend or her mortal enemy who was dancing with her husband - they were still dancing with her husband and she wasn't. "But really? The living room, Arthur?"

"The living room will be just fine."

"If you...wait, what are you doing?" Arthur was wasting no time and was already pushing the coffee table to the side of the room.

"Creating some space. I'm not the greatest dancer, after all and quite frankly I'd rather put my back out rearranging this room than breaking your toes." Satisfied with the new position of the coffee table, he moved onto the armchair which he shoved over to the window. "Now," he muttered to himself, crouching in front of the CD rack. "Now, I thank God that you're the organised one in this marriage and that you are incredibly organised. A-ha, got it."

At this rate, he was going to give himself a coronary with his mad dashing around their, now, spacious living room. "Babe, slow down. We're not picking Mac up from the sitter until tomorrow morning."

"I know, I know and I miss him but we need to make the most of this time while we have it. Because for the next eighteen years, it'll be extremely limited. Unless, we want to be the sort of embarrassing parents who dance in their living room." He groaned as he felt down the back of the unit to find the plug to the CD player, finally locating it and plugging it in.

She watched him, the biggest smile on her face as she did. Most people knew him as Arthur Campbell, a former navy man turned CIA director turned disgraced CIA director who now had a job within the private sector; she, on the other hand, knew him as Arthur Campbell, the most charming man in the world, who was a romantic at heart and a little bit of a dork.

Otherwise known as the guy who still wanted the dance that she had promised him at the gala, even if it meant creating a dancefloor in their living room and finding the CD that had the song that they had chosen for their first dance on it.

"I thought you said you were a bad dancer," she mumbled into his shoulder as he gently swayed her. Their living room was was nothing like the country club that they had held their reception in. There was no extravagant glitterball hanging over them that dazzled in the spotlight that had been focussed on them. Nor was there fifty or so guests watching them for the entire duration of the four minute song. It was just them. In their living room with half dimmed lights, him in his tuxedo and her in her ballgown. The only things that were the same as their special day was the song and how he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world and how she didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.

And she'd remember both days until the day she took her last breath.


	5. 5x04 (2) - Hear Me

**Hear Me**

**A/N: Another chapter set after 5x04, which picks up after the previous chapter. Thank you all for reading and your reviews. It's very much appreciated! **

**#**

Waiting until Annie had left as per her instruction, Joan more or less collapsed into her chair. That girl had been through a hell of a lot but she had to take things easy one day. _Showing up to work after being involved in an RTC that had resulted in a concussion?_ That was reckless and was putting herself at even more risk. _Returning to work only weeks after being shot in the chest?_ That was sheer stupidity that went against both doctor's and Joan's own advice, yet she knew that Annie had been set in her ways and absolutely nothing was going to stop her when she went to Russia last year and, eventually, took down Lena Smith. _Going back into the field after going dark and off the grid for some four months?_ Joan hadn't yet reached a conclusion on what that was yet.

She'd always looked out for her operatives but there had always been a connection with Annie Walker that didn't really exist in the same capacity with others under her command. Annie was determined. Annie was smart. Annie was so much like Joan was herself as a young operative and it was she had always worried that little bit more about her than with other operatives - motherhood was only making that sort of worry even worse.

"God," Joan muttered, rubbing her temple. _It was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?_ The sort of days stress balls and punch bags were made for. And she was still yet to see Calder.

And her little boy - that was why today was sucking so much; she hadn't cuddled her little guy yet.

_Great_. Not only would the day suck until she did, it would drag and, with this being the Central Intelligence Agency, something would come up. If that happened, which it always seemed to do, she'd be lucky if she got home by eight by which time Mac would be asleep and she wouldn't have the heart to wake him. Don't get her wrong, she was happy that the agency had been understanding since she had returned, offering a little more flexibility when it came to her hours; she just wished those better hours applied to every day and she could simply hand over the reigns to the DPD to someone else once the clock struck five. Unfortunately, the agency just didn't work like that.

"Ma'am?"

She forced down a sigh, looking up from her desk. "Yeah?"

"The DCS wants you to know there's a briefing in five. His office."

She forced a smile to give the young suit, who judging from the fact that he was no more than a messenger, was no doubt a rookie. "Thank you." And yet again, she waited until they were gone before she let out how she really was feeling. Make no doubt about it, it was going to be one of those days. Her strong calm front cracked a little as she pounced on the phone halfway through the first, and only, ring. "What...do you want?"

The voice that answered seemed completely taken aback by her bluntness. "Honey?"

"Arthur?" Guilt rose, replacing a little of her stress.

"Yes, Arthur. Fortunately you didn't quite bite my head off, so yes, it is still I."

Even though she was feeling bad for how she had opened their call, she still smiled. It was just good to know that he something to look forward to. "Sweetie...I'm sorry. Nothing's going right today at all. It's not even half nine and things are just piling up. And, don't get me wrong, I would love to talk to you right now but I've got a meeting with Calder in five minutes. Just...just hearing your voice has made my day a little better." She lied. It had made her day a whole lot better.

"I could make it a lot better if you take a moment to breathe and I could talk…"

"Sorry," she muttered, shaking her head.

"And you can also stop apologising while you're at it."

"Sor-. Yeah, I'll stop."

"Good because someone wants to talk to you. Yes, you're allowed to talk again as let's face it, Mac's not that good at holding a conversation yet."

_Mac? _It was incredible how her husband and son could make everything so much better. _Incredible_...even after four and a bit months of them doing exactly that. "Thought you were picking him up at ten?"

"I was but the house seemed way too quiet without either one of you so I picked him up early. I missed the guy, you know?"

"Yeah, me too." More than anything in the world and it was evident in her voice.

"Well, let me ease that for you a little bit." The phone clicked, the sound from the other end changing as he put her on speakerphone. Mac was a smart kid; Arthur only had to tell him that it was "Mommy" on the other end of the line for the kid to start babbling.

Joan didn't give a rat's ass that people could potentially hear the change in both her voice and her language as she spoke to her boy. Nor did she give a damn that she was beaming as she did so. The only thing that she cared about was the guy on the other end who was used to hearing her like that and, if he could see her right now, would also be used to seeing her grinning from ear to ear. "Hey Mac...mommy misses you loads right now, OK?"

"Daddy does too," Arthur interjected.

"Well, I was going to ask if your father was behaving himself but it's pretty much a foregone conclusion that he is not."

"Charming," Arthur remarked.

"Aren't you just?" _After all, he was the most charming man in the world._ "Look sweetie, mommy doesn't know when she'll be back tonight so if I'm a little later, try and stay awake, okay? I'm sure daddy could help you with that."

"Peek-a-boo champ right here."

Joan grinned. "You better be referring to Mac there, Arthur."

"Of course I am. I'm raising his little hands in victory, you just can't see it."

_No but she could picture it and it was too cute for words_. It made her miss them even more. "Just don't tire him out, alright. I swear to God that you two are the only things getting me through today."

"The feeling is absolutely-."

Joan laughed as Mac cut Arthur off by a small whimper. "Yes, daddy. Quit interrupting our phone conversation."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I don't like having to share your affection with this guy. I've got to make the most of having the talking advantage whilst I still can; he wins in the cuteness stakes."

"Not in the slightest. You're both adorable in your own ways. His face lights up over a bottle of milk; yours does over a bottle of beer. See? Cute in different ways."

Arthur chuckled. "Your face does exactly the same over a bottle of rose. Good to know that this kid is definitely ours."

"Well, he's definitely mine…"

"Funny...anyway, now that I mention it, you want me to pop out and grab a bottle of rose for tonight. You sound like you may need it."

"_May_? There's doubt?" _Arthur had worked in the CIA for a few decades, hadn't he? There should be no doubt about it. She definitely needed that bottle minimum. _

"You never know. Calder's meeting might be to give you the DCS position."

"More chance of the Nationals winning something this year."

Arthur winced. "Ouch. That one hurt."

Clearly the truth did-. "Ffffffrankfurt," she said, succeeding in twisting the word that she was originally about to utter into a German city as she realised who too was listening in, as well as realising that she had about a minute to haul her ass up three floors.

Her husband, on the other hand, hadn't. "Frankfurt? What about it?"

"Nothing, it was a lot better than the alternative with little ears around," she sighed, drumming her fingers on the desk. "Babe, I need to go because Calder, being Calder, might just find another hundred ways of making my day even worse if I'm any later to this meeting, briefing, whatever the hell that it is." She took a moment to rid the thought of Calder out her mind before addressing her son. "Mac, sweetie?"

Again, Mac replied in his own language to the sound of his mother's voice.

"I have to go alright, baby? I love you and I'll see you as soon as I can. Arthur?"

"The same applies to me?"

"You bet. Except give Mac a kiss and a cuddle from me, while you're at it. Love you."

"Love you two, honey. Have fun."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't I always?"


	6. 5x05 - What's Up Lonely

**What's Up Lonely**

It hadn't dawned upon her right away.

Arthur had left at the back of midnight, not before he had tucked her in for the night and left her with one more kiss, to go and catch his flight to Romadi for his first overseas assignment working for McQuaid. The following morning had felt like any other; one big rush to get herself ready for her own work as well as getting Mac ready and fed before the sitter came. A longer day at work than normal, she got back a little after seven and returned to her other, and favourite job, of mother, reading and playing with her son before eventually putting him down for the night before she too called it a night.

That, when she nestled down under the covers, was when it hit her - this whole parenting lark was wonderful but it was a lot like her life, it was better with her husband.

Tiredness from that rough day at the office consumed her and she got in a few hours of decent sleep which, remarkably, went uninterrupted as Mac slept through the night, only waking up crying a half hour before her alarm was due to go off. From that moment on, it was the same routine, only slightly less rushed thanks to her human alarm clock.

Then, as she pulled out of the driveway, it hit her again - she missed her other half like crazy. She missed being woken with a smile and a kiss. She missed how he'd always make her a coffee as she gave Mac his breakfast. She missed the simple joy of watching Arthur and Mac's intense morning games of peek-a-boo.

And now she couldn't stop thinking about it. About him. About them both. _God, sometimes she hated just how much those two guys now consumed her life. Yet she wouldn't trade it for the world._

Work had been easier that day and she had finished earlier but it had been a lot worse than the day before. At times, she had found her hand hovering over the phone and, at one point, she had keyed in the first two digits of Arthur's number before she had placed the handset back down with a shake of her head. The time difference wasn't the issue - Romadi may be seven hours ahead of DC but if she was to phone whilst she was at work, making use of one of the many lulls in work loads, it'd still be late afternoon, early evening where he was. Nor was she worried about him being busy - worse came to worse, he wouldn't be able to answer and she'd be put through to voice-mail. No, the problem was that she didn't know what to say. She didn't have anything to say - she just wanted to hear his voice.

And she continued to long for his voice for the remainder of the day and into the small hours of the next day, the day he was finally coming home, as she just couldn't sleep, finding only comfort in one of his shirts, not help towards getting any sleep. Hell, she was even grateful for nearly jumping out of her skin as her phone buzzed on the night-stand, the vibration cutting through the silence.

She rolled over and didn't even need to read the message for a wide smile to appear on her face and for her earlier gratitude to exponentially increase. The name of the sender was more than enough.

_Good morning, sweetheart. Can't wait to see you two again x_

About to reply, she was interrupted by another text from her husband that caused a small laugh to escape from her.

_I should clarify that it's morning over here right now x_

Again, her fingers about to tap out a reply, she was she stopped by another message.

_Although you'll get this in the morning over there so ignore the last one x_

Joan moved fast to get in a reply before he sent a fourth.

_I'm aware of the time difference. And I can't wait either. Love you xoxo_

He replied quickly, in under a minute.

_Love you more. Everything alright? X_

_Not possible. _Squinting at the harsh light coming from her phone, she text him back.

_Can't sleep. Are you busy atm?_

The next reply came even quicker as he didn't take the time to message her back. Instead, her phone started ringing, his name and picture flashing on the screen and she answered it halfway through the first ring. "I'm not busy," came his voice and the smile on her face again, somehow, became even bigger at simply just hearing him again.

"You could have just text me that," she grinned.

"Yeah, but if I were to do that, then I wouldn't get to hear your beautiful voice now would I?" Years of both being a spy, but most importantly, his wife made her pick up on a few things. One, was that he was an incredibly sappy guy at times and she just loved that about him. Two, was that she could tell that the huge smile on her face was also mirrored on his and she didn't need to see him to tell that, she could hear it in his voice. And, three, it was that he meant what he said - he had wanted to hear her voice too. And if she could pick that up from his voice, he could do, and did, the exact same with hers. "And lets face it. We both know that you were going to ask if you could call, hence why you asked if I was busy. Which I'm not...for the next ten minutes as least."

She didn't ask; he probably wouldn't be allowed to say, something that he would apologise for even though it wasn't his fault, and nor did she want to ask as it waste precious time that she didn't have much of. "You got me...but, Arthur, hearing your voice...it's lovely, it really is but calls from Romadi to DC aren't exactly cheap."

"Don't care. You're worth it."

Long distance phone conversations, such as the one they were having, weren't cheap but they didn't cost a million dollars either. Yet that was what he made her feel like - a million dollars and then some.

"So...what are you wearing?"

She laughed. "You really going down that route?"

"It's all suits and army colours over here, I need some stimulus. So what are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

Arthur stuttered. "H-honey, don't do this to a guy. I don't particularly want to be over here as it is. Do not give me a reason to skip my final meeting this morning and get on the first plane back to DC. Cruel, so cruel..."

"Sorry, couldn't help it."

"You better be sorry."

She wasn't in the slightest. "What are _you _wearing?"

"Nuh-uh. You didn't give me a proper answer. You gave me a cruel one and one that I highly doubt is a truthful one as you complain that you're cold if I hog the covers. Which I never do, of course," he quickly added.

"Fine...I'm wearing one of your shirts. Happy?"

"Delighted...because that's absolutely adorable."

"What about you?"

"I'm wearing, uh, Kevlar."

"Kev-." She stopped mid-word, mindful of sleeping babies, and finished the word in a much quieter register. "-lar?"

"It's compulsory over here, don't worry." Yet the word compulsory made her worry that little bit more. "Can I ask a stupid question?"

She welcomed it; it took her mind off of the small fact that her husband was currently thousands of miles away, wearing Kevlar in a war ravaged country. "Shoot."

"Why you whispering? Or had been until a few moments ago."

She wondered if he noticed. "Oh that? Um...well, I'm kinda sharing our bed with another guy."

"You are, are you? Should I start feeling threatened? What does this guy look like?"

"Handsome, blonde and got cute little dimples like you do. He's...gorgeous." _And perfect. And still like a dream. Still unbelievable._

"Definitely threatened. There's no way I can contest with our son."

Nodding, she ran a hand gently over the top of her sleeping boy's head, tangling her fingers in his fine hair. "You're spot on. He at least shares the covers. And doesn't dribble as much."

"Harsh hon-." The phone crackled ever so slightly, voices - one which was his - and other muffled at the other end of the line before he came back on. "I'm so sorry, baby. We're making a move now. I'll, well I'll actually see you in a few hours time. So...until then?"

Joan smiled. "Until then. Be safe, Arthur."

"Will do. After all, I've got you two to come home too, I'll be extra safe. Love you."

"Love you too," she replied before he hung up. Locking her phone, she placed it back down on the nightstand before nestling back under the covers. She reached forward to place a kiss on her son's head. "Love you as well," she whispered before finally managing to get some sleep, her husband's voice still ringing in her ears.


	7. 5x05 (2) - Maybe

**Maybe**

"When you told me you were wearing Kevlar, I was worried."

The shirt he was halfway through getting changed out of was unbuttoned as he turned around to face his wife who was standing in the doorway where she stood for a few more moments before coming over to him, her eyes on the scars that decorated his body. Fading though they may be, the scars from his stabbing four months ago were still incredibly visible and she traced them with a finger so gently it was as though she was scared that they could still cause him pain.

"Funny I know, worrying even though your husband is wearing Kevlar and should, in theory, be protected," she muttered, the small laugh that followed just that little bit forced. A few seconds passed between that tiny laugh and the the next words to come out of her mouth. "I also know that you didn't mean to tell me that, did you?"

He couldn't deny that it been more or less a slip of the tongue when he had been on the phone to her. "No, I did not."

"And not because of your job but because I'm your wife, right?"

Arthur nodded. "Correct again."

"You know when you told me that you were away to Romadi, something that I'm pretty that you weren't allowed to disclose yet you did-."

"I was not. But I trust you and I feel that it's fair to you, my wife, that you knew just exactly where I was. Telling the woman I love, and whom I'm lucky enough to share a life with, is hardly jeopardizing McQuaid's business over there. And if it was?" He shrugged. "You come first, not Ryan McQuaid so I don't particularly care to be perfectly honest."

"But I do."

"You-." He did a double take, not expecting that response. "You do?"

"Arthur, you were in Iraq. It'd be a different story if you were in England or Canada or France. But Iraq, a country that is still some way from being stable? I don't want to know that. Nor do I want to know that you're wearing Kevlar. The only sort of transparency I want between us these days is simply knowing when you're coming home. That's all I want to know."

"That...that I can do," he smiled before he noticed the sudden change in her expression. "What's the matter?"

She tried to fake a smile and laugh it off. "Nothing, it's silly."

He gently took hold of her forearms. "Nothing you ever have to say is silly. Ever."

"Ever?" She said the word like a child, so small.

"_Ever_. Unless," he tilted his head and grinned. "Unless, it's your views on football. Or TV talent shows. Or on classic rock music."

"So much for nothing, eh?" She laughed and this time there was sincerity behind it.

"I meant to say when it came to important stuff. You trying to convince me that hockey is better than football is silly because it's also incredibly wrong," he chuckled. "Now, what were you going to say?"

"On the phone...when you said that you were wearing Kevlar, I couldn't help but think, wonder even the sort of difference that would have made in that barn when you-." Her voice caught and her eyes dodged his. She sorta shook her head, again, no doubt under the impression that she was talking nonsense when that wasn't the case. It was completely far from the case. What she was talking about was important...it was also the first time she had really had this conversation with him. "When you got stabbed."

Guilt came crashing down on him. He had told her that she had nothing to worry about before he had left to go to Romadi and yet, by simply letting slip where he was going and what he was wearing, he had made her do exactly that - worry. And that was without telling her that they had had to be armed, something that had ultimately saved their lives over there when they had come under fire.

"Maybe, I wouldn't have had to receive a phone call telling me that my husband was in hospital. Maybe I wouldn't have had to endure the longest cab journey of my life to that hospital and maybe, just maybe I wouldn't have had to sit in a waiting room wondering whether or not my child was going to meet his father." Her voice was raw. Her eyes were glistening.

So was his. "Joan."

"It's weird how a day can be both the best, and worst, day of your life. But that, that day was. It shouldn't be the best day of my life because my husband nearly died but it is because it was just nearly and not…" She tailed off, not able to finish the sentence.

"Bullshit."

The word prompted her to look up, her sadness twisting quickly into great confusion. "Sorry?"

"What you just said? Bullshit. That wasn't the best day of your life. No, it was not because the best day of your life came shortly after and it was when we met our boy. That, judging from the smile on your face that day, was the best day of your life. So don't give me any of your crap," he smiled, his thumb gently stroking her chin. "Coincidentally, it was also the best day of my life too."

"See...now you're making me feel bad for not saying that was the best day of my life at first."

"Baby, you don't need to say it for me to know that it is. I mean have you seen how you look at that kid? It's obvious that he's the greatest thing to have ever happened to you. Things like that don't need to be said."

She smiled. "He is. And you too."

"Him and his mother, yes. They both are the greatest things to have ever happened to me." Those smiles, from both her and his son, when he returned home a few hours ago, gave him the most wonderful feeling in the entire universe and well as life. "Now, you know what I've been looking forward to?"

"What's that?"

"Cuddling with my wife."

"Yeah?"

He nodded and in a swift movement picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder to squeals.

"Arthur put me down. Arthur," she giggled. "Arthur, we're going to wake Mac. I just put him down."

"Relax honey. The walls aren't that thin...thankfully. Besides, we? We're going to wake him? It's you making the noise."

"Cause this is not cuddling."

"Fine," he sighed, ceasing spinning her and putting her down on the bed. "But I'm afraid that this isn't going to be cuddling either."

# # #

Things were back to how they should be. Mac was in his crib, Arthur was lying beside her in their bed and the empty feeling that had drove sleep away the past few days had gone completely as they lay next to one other, so close that the tips of their noses were touching and she could feel the warmth radiate from his body. "I missed you."

Arthur smiled, his eyes somehow finding a way to twinkle in the darkness. "I missed you too."

"Remember when we first started dating? The nights we couldn't spend together? The weekends apart? That time I got sent to Prague for two months? How the hell did we manage?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Arthur murmured. "I made the mistake of scrolling through my camera roll instead of sleeping on my first night in Romadi. Think I only got two, maybe three hours of a decent sleep? I missed you that much."

Joan sympathised - because she had done exactly the same, flicking through just some of the many family photographs she had on her phone. Just some...there was many more in more traditional physical photo albums and frames dotted around their house, never mind the photos that were on her laptop. "You could have called. Earlier, I mean." _Should have called because she hadn't the words to make that call herself and didn't want to stutter like a lonely fool on the phone to him. _

"A seven hour time difference and, that night, was an early one...I figured you'd be working."

"I wouldn't have minded." _Far from it. _

"No. But Calder would have."

"Even more reason to have called," she chuckled and he did too.

"Yeah, but, seriously, I didn't want to get you into trouble. Plus, you'd have been busy. It's not your typical office job where you can slack off."

"You're too thoughtful for your own good, you know that Arthur Campbell?" Smiling, she nestled into his side as he pulled her closer to him, an arm wrapping around her shoulder. "Way too thoughtful for your own job."

Arthur grinned. "I am aware, Joan Campbell. I am painfully aware."


	8. 5x06 - The Sun Will Rise

**The Sun Will Rise**

With only himself and his glass of Scotch for company, Arthur continued to sit at the dining room table that he had came home to find his wife sitting at, her face a mix of so many emotions - some that he hadn't seen on her features in quite some time. Holding back the tears, she had told him exactly what was on her mind and all of those emotions began to make sense.

Guilt; she told him that she had discovered the sort of business that he had been on in Romadi and that she knew that she shouldn't have been prying.

Fear; her decision to look into his recent trip abroad brought the sort of worries that were normal, even for Joan Campbell, and the sort of worries that Arthur had been keen to avoid. The whole secrecy between the Central Intelligence Agency and McQuaid wasn't why he hadn't told her what had happened. He would happily tell her everything that his job entailed, safe in the knowledge that Joan, although technically a rival, would never use what he had told her against him. She wasn't like the other sort of people in this line of work; she had respect and she had class. The reason he never told her was that he didn't want her to worry - he'd done that to her far too often as it was and it had never been fair then and it especially wasn't fair now after all that, and also now as she was a mother.

Sadness; that had been something he hadn't seen in quite some time. Probably the last time he had had to witness it, was a few months ago, before the birth of their child. And that was what hit him the hardest - because he was the cause of it.

"_You were in a fire-fight. You could have died."_

The thought had crossed him mind too. Both back then, when he'd been in the midst of it all, and numerous times since. The night he had gotten back from Romadi, thankfully with only a tweaked shoulder and a few scratches, he had cuddled his son a little longer and held his wife a little tighter in bed. He was all too aware of the risks he had taken and all too aware of what the consequences were if something had gone wrong - those consequences were extremely similar to the sort of thoughts that had ran rampant through his mind when he had been bleeding out in a barn, uncertain if he'd ever see his wife again or meet the kid who'd later go on to steal his heart.

He knew he could had died; he hated the fact that Joan knew too.

And then came the mix of all three: the guilt for thinking it, the fear that it could happen and the sadness that there was beginning to reach a stage when they had to stop and realise that their jobs, that pitted them against one another, could pull them apart.

"_I've seen a lot of couples face this sort of thing and lose."_

He had held out his hands and had patiently waited until she took hold of them.

"_We're not just any couple."_

Close to tears, Joan had nodded before the cries of their child broke the heavy silence. The mother in her hated those cries, not wasting a second and breaking their hold to rush upstairs. The father in him wanted to run on up with her but the husband in him stopped him. She needed a few moments and he allowed her them before he tiptoed upstairs, standing at the open door to the nursery.

He hated seeing Mac cry but he hated seeing his wife cry even more and opened arms that she walked into once she finally turned around from a now peaceful baby that he had just watched her soothe. There'd only been so long that those tears could build up in those strong dams before they burst, Arthur's shirt becoming damp with tears as she buried her head in his chest.

He held her tight so that he didn't have to feel her shaking."It's gonna be alright, I promise," he mumbled into her shoulder, as he rubbed her back. "I promise you, Joan. Everything will be alright."

"Sometimes you don't get to make that choice," she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

"We will."

Eyes red and watery, she pulled back from him to meet his own cloudy eyes. "How can you be so sure? I've seen couples, strong couples, shatter because of this job. How can you be sure that we won't be another couple, another failed marriage, another victim of this God awful job that we're only really doing for that little boy over there?"

Arthur swallowed back that lump in his throat. "Do you love me?"

"You know that I do." She seemed offended that he had even asked.

"And I love you. More than words can say. And that's why I can't believe we had to have this discussion. So I am sorry. I am sorry that my job has caused this."

She shook her head, repeatedly. "No, Arthur. I'm sorry...I trust you, I do. It's just..."

Not letting her finish, he took her smaller hand in his."C'mon," he smiled, leading her back downstairs, this time to the living room where he sat her down gently, away from little ears. "It's not an ideal time to have this discussion when we've got Mac, I know."

"It's never an ideal time."

"That's, that's right. And, honestly, I never thought there would be a time, so to speak. I never envisaged being in this position, ever. I was more than content, and planning to, spend the rest of my career at the agency before calling it a day. But things...things just don't work out like that, huh?"

"Things rarely goes as planned."

Arthur frowned as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "Is that a bad thing? This time last year, would you have ever thought of our lives being this good?"

"Well, no because I...I never thought that we'd have a kid, Arthur. We were told that was never going to happen for us."

"But it did. Life throws surprises at us all the time, it's how we handle them that defines us. Like you. You work your ass off, both here and at Langley, yet you never once complain. You're a fantastic mother, Joan and an extraordinary woman. That, that is why I have absolute faith in us."

A smile, to his relief, finally spread across her lips, big and bright. "You know, you always, always say things like that about me. You can easily say the same about yourself."

"Now, I wouldn't want to seem big-headed now, would I?" He grinned, letting a small laugh escape. "But, minus the whole mother part. Oh, and being a woman."

"True. Arthur Campbell, you are an incredible father...but an a more incredible man."

He nodded, although his smile faded just that little bit. "I could be better."

"Couldn't we all?" She said, with a little shrug. "Listen, I'm sorry. Truly I am for the way that I have approached things in regards to your new job. It's just...it's just I'm finding this harder than I could ever, ever have anticipated. You working for a rival agency, I knew it would come with challenges...I just didn't know what sort."

"Tell me about it. I'm both gonna assume that you know all the details, and quite frankly it doesn't really matter now, so I'm going to lay it all out there. If I knew I was going to be in a fire-fight or risking the chance of IEDs blowing up in my face, I would never have taken this job. You must know that you, and our son, are the most important things to me; you two are the reason I wake up in the morning, what I live for...and what I want to live for. And when you come as closing to losing it all, like I did in those stables...you find a way to love your wife even more and your cherish every little sound that your kid makes." And cherish them he did. "I'm not gonna to pack things up with McQuaid just yet, though. I firmly believe that it's a job that's perfect for me. The hours are decent, most of the times, and the pay is gonna pay for Mac's college. But I'm gonna be more careful and as trasparent as I can be with you. After all, you're the love of my life and you've given me a beautiful little boy and it's the least you deserve."

"Thank you," she beamed before took hold of her hand again and began tugging on it and again leading her somewhere. "Where are we going?"

"Bed."

"It's, it's not even eight-thirty."

"Didn't say to sleep now, did I silly?"

He didn't have to turn around on the stairs to see the glare. "Did you call me silly?"

"I kinda did."

"You know I could kick your ass for that."

"I am in absolutely no doubts that you could kill me for that. But with a sleeping baby in the house? I'm not so sure that you will."

"You know if it hadn't taken me ages to put him down tonight, even before I had to settle the little guys about ten minutes ago, I might just."

"But you can't, so you shan't," he grinned.

"Luckily, for you."

"Indeed. Just another reason why I am incredibly thankful for our boy." _Incredibly thankful, it was unreal._ "I need to show you something." And he showed her the bruises that covered his shoulder that were now becoming more prominent.

"What happened?" She asked, gently running a finger over them, careful not to apply any pressure.

"Seriously, I do not know precisely. I think, emphasis on the think, that I banged it on a car door. It's only really starting to bruise, and hurt now."

"You were involved in a fire-fight and yet you get hurt by a car door?"

"Would you rather it was a bullet?" The words came out quicker than he could stop them.

"I-I-," she stuttered as the thought sprang to her mind.

He took hold of her arms, shaking his head. "No, no, no honey, that came out wrong, I'm sorry."

"It's fine...it's just been a long day, my head's all over the place right now, I'm freaking out over nothing. And, and it's all because of that kid who's just so lucky he's so darned cute that I couldn't be mad at him for making me such a damn mommy. Who'd have thought it? Joan Campbell, the once tough and feared head of the Domestic Protection Division, now spends half her life reading picture books and continues to read them even after her kid dozes off in her arms, because she really, really wants to know what happens to the Little Bunny."

"That's sweet...but you've read that enough times to know that the Little Bunny finds his carrot in the farmhouse by the end and lives happily ever after."

"And there's the former DCS who knows that book off by heart. What's happened to us?"

Arthur smiled. "Only the best thing ever, that's what."


	9. 5x07 - Anytime

**Anytime**

In the morning, it was, at most, a twenty minute drive; in the evenings, it was nearly double that. Strange, as there was never any road works and the times she'd leave Langley varied greatly from day to day. The world, which was seemed to be working against her these days, was just lucky that what she was coming home to was more than worth the wait. Yet still, even though it was the world transpiring against her, she still apologised as she dropped her bag in the hallway and rushed through to the living room. "Traffic's unbelievable these days. I'm sorry, I'm sor-." Joan was cut short by the sight of her husband in a sweater and jeans; not his usual work attire and by no means appropriate attire for his dinner with clients - that was what he had left it at, 'clients', - tonight. It was that much of a shock, she didn't notice Mac in his arms until he instinctively passed him over to her. "You going out like that?"

"I'm not going out at all," he smiled in sync with Mac. "Our guy cancelled."

"Oh...that's unfortunate," she lied, although she was sure that it was painfully obvious. Not that it mattered anyway, Arthur was just as pleased.

He grinned. "For them, yeah they've just missed out on a contract with us as McQuaid doesn't do cancellations. But for me, it's incredibly fortunate."

This time she didn't even bother to hide her joy that her husband was hers for the night. "You don't say." A small whimper from her son was easily silenced as she turned to him and kissed his forehead. "Mommy didn't forget you, I promise."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see how Arthur gave her a few moments with Mac, before he finally asked, "Have you ate?"

"No," she replied, gently shaking her head as she bounced her boy. "I'm assuming that you haven't either, right?"

"That's right. Only guy that's been fed in this house is the one that's in your arms," Arthur chuckled, reaching to shake one of Mac's little fists. "You wanna go out and get something? Call it sad but I basically have a mental note of all the family friendly restaurants in both this, and all the surrounding, zipcodes."

Joan smiled. "That's not sad; that's adorable."

"Glad you think so," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's only the back of six, we could go and get something to eat and then find something to do as the little family we are. How does that sound?"

_The little family we are. _"Sounds perfect."

# # #

The evening had gone perfectly up until this point. Mac was, thankfully, turning out to not be one of those kids who screamed their heads off in restaurants. Instead, it was his father who had caused the biggest scene of the night after having discovered a dirty mark on his napkin and making Joan have to get up and get the big baby, a baby whom thankfully she loved as much as her real baby to go and run after him, a new one. But besides that small bump in the road it had been perfect. A nice meal and nice, blissful family time, it truly was perfect.

Things only started to seemingly go wrong when they turned up to the zoo. "C'mon, you don't shut until nine. It says that right there." Tapping on the sign, Arthur said/borderline pleaded with the young guy behind the counter, who looked fresh out of high school, who was currently having none of what Arthur was saying.

"It also says last admission is at eight right underneath. It's eight fifteen. I'm sorry," the guy whose name badge said Alex shrugged.

"My kid's five months old."

"And last admission is at eight. Again, my apologies but it's company policy. I could lose my job if I let you guys in."

Arthur frowned. "Seriously?"

Alex nodded. "Seriously. My boss is kinda an ass; he's probably waiting for the slightest of excuses to fire me."

Eyes wandering, her husband's eyes fell on a stack of papers by a locked wooden box on the counter. "I'm pretty sure some nasty anonymous feedback on one of those forms over there about customer service would be a good excuse..._Alex_."

"Are you threatening me?"

She herself had been in many a similar situation like this before, forgetting that her authority didn't extend to members of the public. It took a little while for Arthur to remember that too, transforming back from former Director of Clandestine Services to the job he really excelled at - daddy. "Yeah...no. Listen, you seem a good kid and I really, really don't want you to get fired but I don't want my boy upset. Yeah, I know that he's only five months but kids can be really perceptive. Myself and my wife work hard; we don't get much times for doing stuff like this. Forty-five minutes would be more than enough. And some lovely anonymous feedback wouldn't harm you either."

A few seconds passed before Alex rolled his eyes, finally accepting the money that Arthur had tried to pay for entry some time ago. "I must be crazy but alright. Not at word to anyone, OK?"

Arthur smiled. "Don't worry, I'm very good at keeping secrets. I'd make an great spy," he quipped, his smile turning into a cheeky grin as he turned round to her and kindly taking the stroller from her. "Don't you think, honey?"

"I think you'd make an excellent spy." Unable to help herself, she laughed at their private little joke as she followed her husband. She clapped her hands. "OK, so we have forty-five minutes, five of which will be spent at the gift-shop, spending more money on that stuffed bear collection that we've inadvertently started for Mac. Therefore, we really have forty minutes. Start at the top of the hill and work our way down?"

He stopped in his tracks. "Hill? There's a hill?"

"You've never been, have you?" _So, baby's first trip to the zoo was also daddy's? That was something that she hadn't expected. _

"Never. It wasn't exactly local when I was growing up and, to be fair, it's not the kind of place that I've ever found the need or desire to go to before this little guy came along. How big a hill?"

"Difficult to really say. But it's significant enough."

His eyes were wide as he looked down at the stroller in his grasp. "But stroller."

"But stroller that you so gracefully volunteered to take charge of," she grinned. "Relax, they normally run a shuttle to the top."

Arthur sighed a sigh of pure relief. "You could have opened with that."

"I could have but where's the fun in that?" _Exactly; there wasn't any. _"C'mon. We've got thirty-eight minutes and counting. Let's make them count."

# # #

Just like Mac's first words, that she was already eagerly anticipating, the words that Arthur were about to say would always stick with her - for entirely different reasons.

"Penguins always make me laugh," Arthur chuckled.

Try as she might, she'd never, ever forget the absurdity of that sentence. "Do I even want to ask why? Actually, no. I'm gonna ask why because that's not the sort of thing people randomly come out with. My curiosity been piqued. Why do penguins always make you laugh?"

He pointed at the penguins in questions that a thick piece of glass separated them from. "Look at them."

"I am. And Mac's looking at them. Yet neither of us are laughing."

"You don't see it?"

"See what?" Penguins were cute; not funny. OK, a little but funny when they ran but by no means hilarious.

"The penguins," Arthur said as if it was obvious.

Clearly it was not. "I am seeing the damn penguins. Arthur, what are you going on about? 'Cause whatever it is, I'm just not getting it. Nor is Mac."

He chuckled again. "Don't you think they look like they're wearing little suits?"

"I-. _What_?"

"That's what it looks like; they look like they're all dressed up and ready for some fancy event."

She had to stop herself from laughing at his comment. _The irony. _"And so do you like ninety percent of the time. Yet I don't think it's funny; I just think you need a bigger wardrobe."

He tore his attention from the enclosure to her, an adorable pout on his lips. "Hey when we met you said you loved my suits."

"And I never said that I didn't now. Just think you should change it up every now and then - just like tonight when you have, thus proving you look handsome without the need to wear a full suit and tie."

Arthur smiled. "Guess, I'm the lucky one, eh? Those poor things can't change; they always look like they're wearing suits."

Letting Arthur have this moment, she pried her son from his arms. "C'mon baby. Daddy's just...I don't even know what daddy's doing. Let's go and see the monkeys, yeah?" Mac babbled in return and she took that as a yes and she beamed. "Yeah."

# # #

They had finished their mission with time to spare. After seeing all the animals and taking enough precious family photos to fill an album, they were simply enjoying a peaceful stroll through the zoo grounds. That was, however, until Arthur broke the comfortable silence. "Question for you."

"Arthur, if it's got anything to do with why I don't find penguins funny then my silence, as I refuse to any such questions, will be your answer and the only answer that you'll be getting in reply to such questions."

He chuckled. "It wasn't but, gotta say, still in a little disbelief that you don't find them, funny."

"I don't. Not even remotely." That little shred of humour she had originally found in them was all gone now, thanks to him.

"Really?" _How was he still shocked? _

"Hello, Joan Campbell, your wife of many, many wonderful years. Have we met?"

"Don't give me the whole hard-ass act. I know exactly what you're really like, Missy."

"And you're the only one that does. So if anyone finds out that I spend Sunday evenings watching The Real Housewives of Orange County, I know who to kill."

"Honey...little ears and all that," he smiled, gesturing to the stroller.

"Please Arthur, he may well have to witness Mommy strangling daddy with one of his ties, it's fine as he'll be on my side."

"Wow...wow, love you too."

"I know you do; that's why I know that my secret is safe with you," she said, leaning into his side as they walked, arms linked as he pushed their son. "Now, what were you gonna ask me?"

"When the time comes...which one of us is gonna go in the playpark?"

"What?"

"The playpark...you know like the one that's to your left right now? Or the one that's about a five minute walk away from our house? Which one of us is gonna be the parent that's gonna go in with him?"

"I-I...I've never really given it much thought."

"Yet in a few years times that's all that this one is gonna think about. So we should decide."

She nodded, deep in thought. "Well, obviously it depends on where we are in the next few years, career wise. But, you know, I do not mind taking him if you want." He almost instantly waved a finger in her face at her reply. "What?"

"I knew it," he smirked.

"Knew what?"

"You're such a big kid, aren't you? I can just picture you running about daft, climbing up the climbing frames, trying to run up the slide and having more fun on the see saw than him. Don't. Don't even deny it, you. I know exactly what you're like."

"Fine, I won't," she shrugged.

"So, you're admitting it?"

"I guess, yeah. Why? Did you wanna take him?"

"I-."

Now it was her turn to point the finger - literally. "Now who's the big kid? And, don't you deny it either. As I keep telling you, I know you better than I know myself - you'd be making the poor boy push _you _on the roundabout, wouldn't you?"

"Gotta admit, the roundabout was my favourite as a kid."

Letting a laugh escape, she couldn't help but check her watch, an idea already formed in her mind. "You know...we've still got ten minutes before we get kicked out and it seems like most people have left early so it's quiet."

Arthur bit down on his bottom lip. "And the stroller's got brakes, so we wouldn't have to worry about him; just have him right next to us, it'd be fine."

"It would. The sleepyhead's dozing off as it is..." She smiled as she looked down at Mac, never been prouder of anything more in her life than that child. _Their _child.

"You wanna?" Arthur grinned.

She nodded. "Yeah...what do you wanna do first?"

"Totally up to you...want me to push you on the swings?"

"If you want..." _He better want. _

"Of course I wanna," he grinned, reaching for her hand. "C'mon."


	10. 5x08 - Stronger

**Stronger**

**Author's Note: Soooooooo, Joan has a secret? Anyone got any theories as to what it is? Anyway, enjoy my latest instalment following on from 5x08**

**#**

"_I've just witnessed how quickly, we, the agency can turn against our own when we don't agree with someone's choices__."_

"_You talking about the Balkans? You're concerned about your secret getting out? It's not gonna happen__."_

"_How do you know that?__"_

"_Because__ it was a long time ago when you were careful. And we have each other now.__"_

"_I hope you're right.__"_

Resting a hand on top of her knee, he offered a reassuring smile. "I'm confident that I am. And if, and I stress _if_, I'm not? You know where I am and that's right by your side, where it always is. Like I said, it's in the past and that's where it's almost certainly gonna stay."

Again, Joan refused to agree, the tone of her voice more pessimistic than it was optimistic. "It better. The Campbell name has been dragged through the dirt enough due to bureaucracy as it is these past few years. Things always seem to, to happen. Espionage is only a fraction of our jobs; it's politics that dictate everything."

Not only did they dictate everything, they also had the potential to ruin absolutely everything in their paths. "I know and it stinks. But you? You're smart; you have a degree in political sciences for heavens sake." _From Penn State, nonetheless._ "You're more than qualified to deal with whatever this life throws at you. You wouldn't have gotten where you are now, if you couldn't."

Shaking her head, again came more pessimism."Intelligence and degrees still don't make it any easier though."

Arthur detected the shift in conversation and it took little effort to pinpoint what she was talking about. Yet he still posed it as a question, despite the fact he was sure he was correct in his thinking. "We talking about Annie, again?"

"Well, she said it herself. She has given everything for the agency, for her job and for our country and yet we shove her behind a desk then suspend her? It's not fair, Arthur. After everything that she's done, we treat her like she's done something wrong." Anger and sorrow laced Joan's voice. Arthur couldn't even begin to imagine what it would have been like when Walker and his wife had those meetings about her future. Joan cared for Annie. A lot. What had happened in Russia a while back had taken a big toll on his wife. It was no coincidence that during that difficult time she had relapsed and he had felt utterly helpless during the first few nights when she had tried to come off the pills she was addicted to. Arthur hoped to God that something similar wouldn't happen ever again. "Quite honestly, I don't think we'd be sitting here, in this position, if it wasn't for her. You'd be in prison and I'd be left alone to raise Mac...I, I wouldn't cope. I'm barely managing to cope with this job and Mac as it is."

"Don't say that," he replied almost instantly. "You're doing a terrific job with both."

She frowned, shrugged her shoulders. "Well, sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

He took a few moments to let her gather her thoughts before he spoke. "Honey, you're letting this whole Annie situation get to you. You made the right call. You said she had a heart condition-."

"Myocarditis," Joan interrupted. "That, that's the name of her condition."

Not familiar with the condition unlike Joan was - she had researched it the second she had found out what it was called -, Arthur simply nodded, taking the new piece of information on board. "A heart condition is still a heart condition. You did the right thing, Joan. There was no way that you could have let her continue out in the field."

"She said it was manageable."

"It might be but what would happen if something happened to her?"

"I'd...I'd feel terrible," she said, her voice catching at the thought. Her response brought him right back to what had happened in Russia a year or so ago.

"Of course you would. Because you care about her and that was, and is, why you can't let her back out into the field until you know that she is fine to do so."

"The field is her life, Arthur. That's why she hates being stuck behind a desk, or stuck at home. She needs the field right now; I don't think she has anything else." Many, many years ago, an instructor had told her about those two types of operatives - the ones that need the field, and the ones that are needed in the field. It wasn't difficult to tell that Annie was going through a rough time right now. The relationship she had with Auggie was evidently strained, thanks in no small part to the short while they had dated and the tension that had arisen due to their break-up. Not to mention that Annie was still dead to her family. Her job was all she had - now she didn't even have that. "When I made the switch, it was different. 'Cause I had you and I didn't particularly want to have to risk my life every single day when I had you..._when I had something to live for_."

"It's tough. But Annie's a big girl and she'll soon realise that you're only doing this to protect her. She knows you care about her."

Joan nodded. "I hope she does."

A few moments passed, the elephant in the room now not seeming quite so large, before he broke the silence. "So, what about you follow our boy's example and go get some kip?"

She shook her head. "I will...soon, I promise. I just need some more time to think. Don't let me stop you."

"Nah, I've gotten quite comfortable here. Besides, I'm kinda enjoying this mini-rebellion so to speak?"

"Mini rebellion?" Joan frowned.

"Yeah. Like, as parents, we should be setting an example to that kid upstairs. After all, if he wakes at this time, which is..." Instinctively, he looked down at his arm for his watch yet found it bare and had to twist round to check the clock on the wall to the left of him, "Two-fifteen, we'd be encouraging and, doing all we can, to get him back to sleep. Yet here we are awake when he's sleeping," Arthur said with a grin. "Is it wrong that I want to wake him at this time to let him what it feels like?"

Chuckling, she shook her head. "Is it wrong that I kinda want to too? Bless him, I love him but I just wish he wouldn't wake us as often as he does."

"Same. But he's getting better and soon that won't be a problem." Mac sure was growing up fast.

"Soon, he'll be getting you to check under his bed for monsters." Faster than they could ever have imagined. The past few months had flown by so quickly.

"And soon, I'll be getting mommy to check for monsters as she's a whole lot braver than daddy would ever be," Arthur grinned.

She faux sighed. "Fine. But you'll be in charge of stray arachnids in his room and the whole house, deal?"

"Deal," he laughed.

Joan didn't laugh; she didn't even smile. "I was being serious."

His smile only got wider. "Yeah, seriously cute. Terrorists? Monsters? You're fine with. But spiders? Tiny little things that you can catch in a cup or kill with a paper towel? They're your match?"

"Shut it, Arthur. You seen the way they move with all those legs? No. No, they've been your job since we got our first house together. Not touching them whatsoever. Me, monster duty. You, spider duty. Deal?"

"Deal," he said for the second time.

"Thank you," she smiled, nestling into his side that little bit more, still clutching her son's stuffed toy as she had been since she wandered downstairs after finding it impossible to fall asleep, even with her husband gently snoring by her side. "You know what I realised?"

"What's that?"

"Mac will know."

Forehead knotting in slight confusion, Arthur tilted his head to meet her eyes. "Know what?"

"About us and the agency. You were the DCS, you were a public figure and whilst I wasn't in the role long enough to make the transition from covert to overt, it won't be that difficult for him to put the pieces together." It was hard not to read the broadsheets or hear the news during the various scandals that had occurred during Arthur's tenure as Director of Clandestine Services. Particularly during his well publicized "affair" last year when he had resigned. Her name may not have been stated but a so-called source revealed how he met his wife at Langley. Mac would just need to join the dots to know. "We can't lie to him."

"Nor we should. We can just choose to omit certain details." Attempts on their life just days before he was born was certainly going to be one story just between him and his wife. "We should be proud of everything, anyway. If it weren't for the agency, we wouldn't have met one another. We wouldn't have fallen in love, we wouldn't have married and we wouldn't have had Mac. Our pasts may not be perfect in some ways but in others, they are," he said, kissing the top of her head before reaching out for the bear in her grasp. "Talking about Mac knowing, does he know that mommy's got Mr Fuzzyboots?"

She smiled sheepishly. "No."

Arthur sighed. "Disgraceful. He's gonna want that back, you know? And it seems to me that you have no intention of giving it back."

Batting off his hands, she held the bear to her chest. "He's so cuddly."

"And I'm not?"

A laugh escaped her lips and she held Mr Fuzzyboots out in front of her, her thumb running down his furry face. "You remember this guy?"

He nodded. "The day after you told me we were having a kid, I bought him from this small toy shop that was around the corner from the hotel I was staying at. Gave it to you the day that you asked me to come home."

Her eyes were wide. "You remember?"

"When it comes to important moments in my life, I remember every little detail. Now, ask me what I had for lunch today and I haven't a clue," he beamed. "If you want, I know where the shop is, I can get you your own..."

"Not the same...doesn't have the same memories."

He arched a brow cheekily. "Well...I could go and get another one to give to Mac?"

She laughed. "Not necessary. I'll just wait until he gets bored of this guy and I'll take-." A yawn cut her off and prompted Arthur to spring to his feet.

"Right. Bed. Now."

"I-."

"No protests," he ordered, making light work of scooping her up in his arms. "I'll take you myself."

Following his orders, she didn't protest; instead she just melted into his arms, still holding the bear that she cuddled on those nights when she was alone and pregnant whilst her husband was innocent and in a holding facility. That was one thing that she hadn't told Arthur. And wouldn't. Her nights with Mr Fuzzyboots were one secret she'd never tell her husband.


	11. 5x09 - A Moment Like This

**A Moment Like This**

In the old days, she'd let the whole Annie issue dominate her mind and her every thought. She'd pour a glass of wine and try to rewind with the TV or a book and fail miserably, instead trying to understand just went wrong. These days, it was different. Don't get her wrong, what had happened earlier with Annie, the girl whom she had mentored and would happily class as a friend, was getting to her. It was hard, yes, to have to suspend the girl, never mind accept her letter of resignation, especially after everything they'd been through. But it wasn't getting to her in the way that it used to.

A lot had changed these days and, looking back, it wasn't hard to see how their marriage had come close to breaking point. Rough days at work would extend to rough days in general when they got back home thanks to office politics and gulfs in clearance levels and seniority. Neither of them had left the world of espionage but their new respective jobs in rival agencies allowed for more flexibility in some respects and for seniority to never be an issue. That, and their day, however rough, was always made a better one when they came home to their child.

A lot had changed but a lot hadn't. Such as how, tonight, it looked as if Arthur had another night on the couch ahead of him - however this time, the circumstances were entirely different. "I don't wanna wake him."

"Then don't," Joan replied, not even bothering to look up from her book. Not only was she finding it a decent read but also finding it an excellent object to hide her smile behind. She'd seen the adorable sight that was her baby boy fast asleep on her husband's chest, a good hour ago and had half expected this problem to occur.

"But how do I move?"

"You don't." This time she had to bite down on her lip to stop the laugh escaping.

"But I need the bathroom."

It was getting harder and harder not to laugh. After all, laughing would surely wake Mac. "Don't. Not on that couch, you don't."

"So, you see my problem?"

Lowering the book and meeting the panicking eyes of a father who loved his son so much so he was, seemingly, willing to wet himself more than he wanted to wake a kid who wouldn't remember the abrupt awakening come the next morning, her smile was somehow growing ever wider. "If you wet that couch, I see a big problem for you."

"Are you finding this funny?"

She wasn't going to lie. "I'm finding it hilarious. And adorable. Both in equal measures."

Arthur gently nodded before glancing down at the sleeping baby who was sprawled out on his chest before he sighed softly as he pondered. "He's gonna wake if we try and move him."

"_We_?" She frowned. "Honey, I am having no part in this. You decided to let him lie on you; you can wake him up and spark the great Chestgate tantrum of 2014. I'll watch," she grinned, going back to her book, still able to see his pout, out of the corner of her eye.

"Joan..."

Her reply was instant. "Stop whining."

So was his. "But..."

"But what?" Sometimes she wondered who the child was. Mac was an angel compared to Arthur at times, rarely using his excuse of being a child to whine. Arthur, on the other hand, had no excuses when it came to whining.

OK, maybe this time, he did. "I really need the bathroom. I've really been needing the bathroom for the past half hour."

"And you say this now?"

"I guess I was naive to believe that he would wake up eventually. I mean, the little guy never used to go an hour without waking. It's been two hours." 

"He's starting to settle into a sleeping pattern now. Unfortunately for you," she said with a little smirk.

"Joan..."

She sighed. "I swear to God, he better not inherit his daddy's whining," she muttered, folding the corner of the page she'd come to a suitable stopping place on before she placed the hardback down on the arm of the chair, getting to her feet. "How are we gonna do this?"

"So it's we now?"

"It's we only because I'm scared that you will wee." Looking at father and son, her husband and her little boy, she wished there was an easy way to do this. Mac had fallen alseep on his father in the past but it had never been a problem - it had always been in Arthur's arms or in the crook of Arthur's elbow. Tonight, Mac was flat out on Arthur's chest, his little arms wrapped around either side of his father. She couldn't blame the kid; daddy's chest made an excellent pillow. "You know, they teach you all about that breathing crap at those classes but nothing about this."

The thought actually made him shiver. "Please don't remind me about those classes."

"You only went to one, mister." Admittedly, she'd only went to a few herself. Besides the fact that she found them a complete waste of time, she hated going alone. Most of the women that went had their other halves with them; her other half was awaiting trial for treason.

"One was enough. More than enough." Again, he grimaced.

"Don't shiver, you'll wake him."

Arthur;s forehead knotted as he frowned. "Isn't that the point?"

"Yes but...damn it, I don't wanna do this," she sighed. Mac looked so content, so peaceful there on his daddy. It'd be a shame to wake him; she hated him crying at the best of times.

"Then don't. But just keep in mind that your child will be hogging your snugglebunny tonight."

_Oh. _As much as she loved her son, she wouldn't let him deny her this small, and wonderful, privilege. "Alright, we're gonna need to move him."

Arthur grinned. "So you can get your snugglebunny?"

_Yes. _"No," she lied. "So he can get used to sleeping in his own bed and not on daddy's chest."

"Cause that's where mommy sleeps, right?"

"Exactly." Tiptoeing around the coffee table, she grabbed the largest stuffed bear out of the trio that were sitting on an armchair and returned to her husband. "Think we can move him enough to slip this guy under him? He might not notice the difference."

"Oh, I think he will," Arthur mumbled, smirking. "He's not as cuddly as me."

That was true. No bear in the house, or in any of the many toy shops they had found themselves recently trawling as often as every weekend. Sometimes those visits were planned but more often than not, those visits were purely on impulse._ Arthur and Joan Campbell...keeping America's toy shops in business as of last year. _"You have another alternative?"

"I...uh..."

She took that as a no. "Right, help me here, Arthur...lift him a little...more..." There was little that was a satisfying as managing to transferring their kid from a chest to a bear and then from Arthur to her, all without waking him. Free, Arthur smiled and kissed his wife as a thank you before he made a quick exit to go to the bathroom. Yet, the second he left the living room, was when it happened again. "No," Joan whispered. "No...damn it Mac."

It was hard to be mad at the little guy when he was being too adorable for his own good, letting go of the stuffed animal, the second he was in his mother's arms as he woke. But he didn't cry; instead, he shifted to cuddle into Joan before he fell asleep again, content as ever.

Hearing her husband's feet back on the downstairs landing, she gently called out. "Arthur?"

"Yeah?" He called back then stopped at the doorway and laughed. "It happened again, didn't it?"

She could only smile. "Yep."


	12. 5x10 - Beautiful Disaster

**Beautiful Disaster**

It'd been a rough night. For her, at least; Arthur was gently snoring to her right and Mac, hadn't made a sound all night. Tossing and turning, she'd managed to untangle herself from Arthur's gentle hold around her waist as she instead tangled herself up in the covers. It wasn't healthy yet she couldn't help but replay the footage that had been all over the news, over and over again in her head. That, those scenes of the motorcade stalled, as a vehicle remained alight as fire-fighters battled to douse the flames, was what was driving sleep away.

"_It could have been worse."_

That was what Arthur had told her as she couldn't help but notice the cut on his temple and had instinctively, reached out to run a finger gently down it, feeling terrible as the minimal amount of pressure that she applied on the wound as she examined it, 'caused him to wince.

"_It could have been worse."_

Like those stomach churning pictures, she couldn't rid her husband's words out of her mind. It didn't take much effort to figure out what he had meant with that statement; Arthur wouldn't have come out with it unless it was true. After all, Caitlyn Cook, the traitor amongst the ranks at Ryan McQuaid's security company, had, from the start, had designs on her husband - only Joan had been wrong to assume that they had been purely romantic.

If only they had been.

When she had married Arthur, who was that rare mix of being both handsome and charming in equal measures, she had more or less accepted the fact that there would be some women who may very ignore the gold band on his finger and make a move - many years ago, she was a woman who had done exactly that, although back then, his wedding ring was made of silver and not gold. It'd been the exactly the reason why she had been so insecure many a time. Yet, she trusted Arthur; she would happily place her life in his hands if it ever came down to it. It was Caitlyn that she had never liked or trusted. Recent revelations and events had solidified her decision not to.

Turning for what surely must have been the hundredth time that night, Arthur finally stirred, mumbling into the pillow he had ultimately began cuddling after she had slipped from his grasp. "Baby...? Is it Mac?"

"No." Her voice, unlike his, was bereft of any sleep and was probably the reason why he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

There was no _can't sleep? _He knew her too well to know that if she wasn't sleeping, then her mind was probably in overdrive. "C'mhere," he gestured as soon as he had propped himself up against the leather headboard and helped her sit herself beside him. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" 

He looked exhausted and after his day, she couldn't blame him if he didn't want to hear her silly worries. But he did and, knowing him, he wouldn't sleep until she told him, even if he was as exhausted as he looked. "I can't stop thinking about today, well, yesterday."

He nodded. "Right...that was a eventful day to say the least."

A small laugh escaped from her lips. "Understatement of the century."

Another little nod and he began to run his fingers up and down her bare arm. "I know but it's over now and, yesterday, the good guys won."

_Won. _Yet Ryan McQuaid, who was falsely accused of being the enemy, was in a hospital bed after being shot. _Won. _Yet Arthur had nearly died. _Won. _Yet nowhere near a conclusive victory. There was still many questions left unanswered. The book wasn't closed, it was nowhere near finished; it was merely the end of another chapter. "But it's not over though."

_Won? _Someone had tried to blow up her husband and it was naive and incredibly wrong to believe that Caitlyn Cook was solely to blame. However, that particular subject was yet to be addressed as neither of them wished to talk about it.

They were both as terrified as one another.

"I know it's not, sweetheart," Arthur sighed, before pulling her closer so he could plant his lips on her forehead. "I just wish that it was."

Again, the feeling was entirely mutual. "So what happens now?

He shrugged. "Honestly, I've got no idea. But whatever happens?" The arm that was wrapped around her shoulder managed to snake around her further, reaching her hand so that he could entwine his fingers with hers in an unorthodox fashion. "Screw the whole rival agencies nonsense. You and my little boy come before any agency politics. You're what's most important to me. You'll come first, just as you always do."

Again, the long day was getting to her, and she felt tears sting her eyes and she placed her other hand on top of his. "Family comes first, yeah?"

"Absolutely," he agreed, kissing her again. "Anything else on that extraordinary mind of yours, Mrs Campbell?"

"I...no, I think we covered it all," she said with a smile but Arthur was having none of it, shaking his head.

"Nonsense. C'mon. What did Mac do when I wasn't with you two?"

If she was to list all the things that Mac had done that had amazed her in that small window of time in which it had just been the two of them, before Arthur had arrived home, a little battered and covered in dust, they'd be up until the morning and then some. She knew that motherhood would be amazing; she just hadn't anticipated how much so. Everything about that kid made her smile. Even the tears and the cries 'cause they were a reminder that he was actually real and this wasn't some sort of dream that she was still half expecting to wake from any day now. After a few moments deliberating, she finally settled on an answer. "He laughed at my joke."

Arthur grinned. "He did?"

"Yep." Joan too smiled as she thought back to the afternoon. "Well, I'm not entirely convinced he understood it but he laughed after I said it, so I'm taking it."

"Of course, I would too," he chuckled. "What was the joke?"

She too laughed, both then and now. It was ridiculously bad but if it made her son smile, intentionally or not, she'd tell it a million times. "What do call a bear without any teeth?"

Arthur took a few seconds before shaking his head. "I have no earthly idea. What do you call a bear with no teeth?"

"A gummy bear."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "That is shockingly bad. Like there's bad and then there's shockingly bad." Yet, he laughed again, rubbing his tired eyes. "And on that note, that so shockingly bad it's funny note, how about we give sleep a try, eh?"

She managed a smile. There was still a weight on her mind and, would be until this mess was cleared up, but for now, Arthur had managed to ease it significantly in the way that only he could. She could feel the steady beat of his heart as she rested her head on his warm chest. With him, her problems always seemed that bit smaller.


End file.
